


Second Charm

by BookWorm77071



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, as seen in year seven at hogwarts, but the gay far outweighs the bad, but there are descriptions of violence, so it's not very violent, umm mild homophobia also, with the battle and the arrows and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 06:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17996873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookWorm77071/pseuds/BookWorm77071
Summary: For Lavender, the magic happens twice. There's the spell she casts when she doesn't mean to, before she knows what it even is...and there's what happens when the prettiest girl in school smiles at her. Written for an HP Femslash Secret Santa.





	Second Charm

She's different from the other Muggle-reared children. The magic hits her twice.   


The first part of her story is the same as everyone else's, more or less. She is seven years old. She has always been different, but she has never been quite able to put her finger on what it exactly it is.   


It's in her second year of primary school. She is standing in the middle of the playground, a dead flower at her feet, and she feels so angry. A few minutes ago, the boys had smugly told her that she couldn't play football with them because she was a girl, and told her to go pick flowers instead.   


Lavender likes flowers, and so she did. She chooses violets, which she wore in her hair a few years ago at her parents’ wedding. But they came over and stomped on them all when they saw her examining them.   


Lavender has never felt such rage in all her nearly-eight years. Vision clouded with red, Lavender bends down, picks up a violet, and sends all she feels into it.   


The flower blossoms.   


Her world feels right, then, in that moment. That bit of something--for she does not yet know the word--is what she is supposed to be doing. This is who she is.   


She has created something good from something destroyed, from her own emotions. She holds the flower with immense pride.   


(This bit of the story is the part she tells to others. Purebloods and half-bloods are all especially curious. "When did you first know you were a witch?"    


She leaves out the second moment, which, over a decade later, Lavender still considers one of her bravest moments, and is still immensely proud.)   


She walks over to Katherine, who only lets a select few call her Katie, and gives her the tiny violet.   


The smile Katie gives her after (she has been given permission to use the nickname!) rocks the world she felt finally understood mere moments before.   


A different kind of something, yes, and she doesn't have a name for this one either, but still just as important. She knows that.   


The rest of the year is wonderful for Lavender. She and Katie become best friends, and hold hands during all their breaks, Lavender's dark brown arm entwined with Katie's pale white one and Lavender think they look like the prettiest rainbow every time. She gets a thrill every time they touch, like when she brought that flower back to life.   


But after a wonderful summer with her very best friend, a new girl moves to town, and she doesn't like Lavender very much. Truth be told, Lavender doesn't like her much either. She invites all the girls in the nieghbourhood to her pool party except Lavender, and she makes a face whenever Lavender hugs her friends. And in the second month of school, Katie approaches Lavender and tells her they can't be friends anymore.   


"Ashley says you like girls," Katie tells her when she starts to cry. With an apologetic look, Katie leaves her in the classroom.  
Lavender's never been more confused in her life. Of course she likes girls. She's a girl. Why wouldn't she like them? What's not to like?  


Lavender runs out of the classroom to the girls' loo, and she doesn't notice her teacher's flowers wilt in their vase as she races by.   


Lavender's parents notice a change in her over the next few days. Four days after Katie tells her they can't be friends anymore, Lavender's mother enters her room and asks her what's the problem.   


Lavender doesn't tell her. She doesn't even know what it is herself.   


But what she does know is whispers follow her wherever she goes now. There are too many things wrong with her. Things happen around her when she's angry, she looks at the girls in her class differently, and her skin is far darker than anyone else's in her town. She hears Mrs Royce, Mary's mother, mumble something about rice as she passes by, which leaves her completely dumbfounded.   


* * *

When she is ten, a new student moves to town--this time a boy.   


The boy has warm skin the colour of the big mahogany tree outside Lavender's house and eyes like her mum's favourite dark chocolate and his hair always look like the wind has just run it's  fingers through it and Lavender finds herself wishing she could take its place.   


The realisation hits her very quickly, and relief follows soon afterwards. This is what Ashley meant when she told Katie they couldn't be friends anymore. That she doesn't only like girls, she fancies them.   


Lavender is momentarily thrilled--Ashley was wrong! She doesn't like girls! How can she, when she is so clearly infatuated with this beautiful new boy?   


She decides to tell Katie the good news, and she can hardly wait. She manages to keep herself quiet all through her morning classes, but at the first break of the day, she rushes to find her.   


"Katie!" she calls to her when she spots her.   


Katie's dark braid whips around with her head. She's got a red ribbon tied around the bottom. Lavender used to have a ribbon like that. It's got a rhinestone heart in the middle. "What?" she says.    


Lavender tears her eyes away from the ribbon. "I have," she starts to say, but Katie tilts her head and the fluorescent lights hit the heart and it winks at Lavender.   


She falters. "Never mind," she says.   


Her ribbon reminds her of little Lavender, who stayed up hours into the night crying quietly into her pillow, because Ashley had convinced everyone not to talk to her for a whole week, and she hadn't wanted to alert her parents; who Mary refused to do her science project with; who had been forced to practice swim-kicks with the instructor the whole session, because no girl would hold her legs.   


She didn't know if what little Lavender felt was real. But she did know her pain was, and she didn't want to treat her like Ashley and Mary did.   


* * *

Later that year, Lavender feels as though her soul is saved.   


For later that year, there is a knock on the Brown's door, and in walks a woman wearing a funny green dress and she gives Lavender a letter and a smile. The letter informs her that her presence is requested at a school named Hogwarts for magic--magic!--and the smile tells her that this place will welcome her.   


The woman introduces herself as Professor Pomona Sprout. She talks to Mum and Dad, explaining to them about the school, but in the middle of telling them about the train station, she stops, looks at Lavender, and says, "I'm sure it must have been very hard, knowing there was something different about you, and now knowing what or why...but you never have to feel that again".   


Her words give Lavender such hope, and she ignores the worried voice in her mind saying that she must be wrong.

* * *

_ First.  _ She is chosen to be a Gryffindor first. Lavender’s never been first for anything in her life.   


The next one chosen--a boy named Seamus--gives her a broad grin and the next, a girl named Hermione shakes her hand and the next, Neville, mumbles a  _ hello _ , but the one after him, a girl with skin darker than that boy’s she used to like but not as dark as hers and hair the same colour as Snow White’s takes one look at her, plops down at her side, and pulls her into a big hug

“We’re going to be such great friends!” she says, and sounds as thrilled as Lavender feels.

Lavender’s watches three more boys join her table (one receives more applause than anyone else has, but she doesn’t know why), but she doesn’t talk to them. The girl at her side (her name’s Parvati, and Lavender’s never met anyone with that name before and she think it’s just the prettiest) has all of her attention.

* * *

Her first few months at Hogwarts are the first time in a long time she’s felt truly comfortable. She feels at home.

Parvati is a Pureblood, she learns. A Pureblood is someone who has four wizarding grandparents. Lavender’s incredibly jealous--to know all this from birth!

Parv seems to learn the names of their fellow students faster than Lavender can, and she tells Lavender that this is because she’s met a lot of the Pureblood and half-blood students already. She takes it upon herself to introduce Lavender to everyone she knows.

One day, Parvati brings over a girl Lavender has seen around before. A Gryffindor girl a year older than they. She is laughing as Parvati leads her over to where Lavender is sitting.

“This is Katie,” she says brightly. 

Lavender feels her blood run cold. She feels the magic she’s been learning to control flicker inside her, fear and anger thick in her mind’s eye.

But this Katie doesn’t let Lavender say anything. She lunges at Lavender, and for one wild moment she feels she is being attacked, but then she realises Katie is giving her a hug.

“You’re one of our Muggleborns!” she says, a sort of awe filling her voice. “We’ve got a record amount this year, did you know? Twelve in your whole year. That’s more than ten percent!”

* * *

Lavender’s beyond excited for her second year. No one’s made her feel like she has to apologise for who she is, she’s practically forgotten she’s ever had anything to be ashamed of. In fact, she’s felt so welcome her first year at Hogwarts, and had so much fun during late nights Parvati, staying up and practicing charms on their hair, she’s managed to forget her late nights crying, wishing she just looked at girls the right way.

But just a short while into her second year, Lavender hears tell that that boy Draco Malfoy used a foul word on Hermione Granger, one she’s never heard before and yet somehow sounds all too familiar. She’s too nervous to ask Parvati about it, though.

But on Hallowe’en, he shouts it loud for all the school to hear, and so it feels only natural for to turn to Parv and say, “What’s a Mudblood?”.

Parv flinches and grabs her hand. She pulls her aside, and Lavender feels her cheeks heat up at the pitying eyes of the older Gryffindor’s around her who heard.

“Listen,” Parv says to her, later, when they stand in a much quieter spot. “If anyone ever calls you that...you just let me know, all right?”

Lavender shivers. She’s no stranger to those types of names. She understands full well what it means, even though Parv has skirted around the explanation in words.

She nods.

* * *

The new word,  _ Mudblood _ , occupies her mind so much, that Lavender forgets all about  _ Ashley says you like girls  _ until December of her fourth year.

There is going to be a ball, they are told. A Yule Ball. She and Parvati giggle into the small hours, thinking about their dream date, and she and the other Gryffindor girls discuss their dressing robes in great detail, and even Hermione Granger shyly asks her what kind of potions she uses to keep her hair sleek.

But when Parv asks her who she’d like to go with, she suddenly remembers that it was not the boy with the mahogany-wood skin who she first fancied, but Katie.

“Oh...” Lavender says, tone far too serious and crestfallen for the light teasing. “I don’t know.”

Boys and girls. The thought has never crossed her mind before.

She accepts Seamus’ invitation when he asks, but still, she wonders...

* * *

The fear Umbridge instills in them next year causes a burst of courage in certain students, and Lavender is so proud she is a part of it.

One afternoon, the day after a particularly successful DA lesson, Lavender, summoning all her nerve, approaches Hermione in the library.

“Hey, Hermione,” she says.

Hermione jerks her head up in shock. Nobody speaks to her while she’s studying, not these days. “Oh,” she says, flustered. She and Lavender have been dorm-mates for over four years, but never best of friends the way she and Parv are. “Oh, hello, Lavender.”

“You know a lot of things,” Lavender says.

Hermione raises an eyebrow. “...yes?” she says.

Lavender takes a deep breath. “And I was wondering,” she says, “if you could help me with something.”

Hermione looks surprised and a bit flattered. “Of course. What is it? Transfiguration? First, don’t feel bad with yourself, that new spell we’re learning is nearly N.E.W.T. level--”

“No,” she says. “Not that. I was wondering if you knew anything about people who fancy men and women.”

Hermione closes her books. “Oh,” she says.

Lavender holds her breath.

“Of course.”

* * *

_ Bisexual _ , she tells her.

Lavender’s heart sings.

* * *

Lavender’s walking around her neighbourhood quietly. She’s been doing this a lot lately, telling her parents she needs time to think.

They think this is hilarious, of course--what on earth could a sixteen year old girl spend so much time thinking about?

She hasn’t told them anything. Not about her and Hermione’s discovery, not her goings-on this year at school, and not the rise of the Dark Arts. They’re Muggles, anyway. They can’t understand.

Lavender feels ashamed even as the words cross her mind, for isn’t that exactly the Pureblood supremacists line of thinking? But then Mrs Royce crosses her path.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Royce,” she says cordially. She remembers going to primary school with her daughter Mary...what a different world she lives in now....

Mrs Royce looks at her haughtily, and then Lavender remembers that neither Mary nor Mrs Royce had ever liked her. She remembers hearing her saying something strange to her...something about...rice?

Mrs Royce says it under her breath, just then.

Not rice. Thrice. Thrice damned.

Lavender can’t even move, she’s so shocked.

_ Thrice damned. _

And she bursts out laughing.

“Actually, Mrs Royce,” she says, still chortling, “it’s four times.”

She doesn’t stop and explain why.

“And thanks!” she calls after her hurriedly retreating back.

She can’t  _ give _ in. She simply can’t.

* * *

Her seventh year starts with her safe world, her loving, accepting, welcoming world, shattered to pieces. Lavender sees the Death Eaters board the train and she feels as though someone has taken a needle and stabbed her mother’s best vase, and she can see the shards scattering all over the floor.

* * *

She climbs into bed with Parvati after her first detention with the Professors Carrow. She has waited up for her.

“Parv,” she whimpers, arms throbbing.

“Yeah?” she says, struggling to keep her voice from breaking.

“Somebody called me that name,” she says, voice just over a whisper. “I’m letting you know.”

“Oh, Lav,” she sobs.

* * *

They never spend another night alone that year.

* * *

She and Parv have always been such close friends, but this year, it means something different. They have always told each other they would die for each other, and this year, it is put to the test.

The She-Carrow is showing the mandatory Muggle Studies class how Muggles react to being Crucioed.

Lavender closes her eyes, for she has learned she isn’t brave enough to take it with her eyes closed, and waits for the pain to hit her.

It doesn’t.

But judging by the sound of the tortured moans, it’s hit someone.

Lavender’s eyes fly open, and she shrieks.

Parvati is there, on the ground, in front of her, twitching.

Lavender doesn’t even think. She just throws a hex at her, grabs Parv’s hand, and runs.

They’re both sobbing as they run, going nowhere in particular, their eyes blind with tears. They haven’t a prayer of seeing the person who grabs them from behind.

“Oh!  _ Neville _ !”

* * *

When he brings them into the Room of Requirement, they see a number of Muggleborns and some Purebloods and half-bloods from resisting families, and Neville tells them all he’s been through.

They all notice only one new bed has been created to accommodate their two new additions, but no one says anything.

* * *

“Parv?” she says one night softly, watching her rise and fall with her breathing. She taps on her shoulder.

Parv’s eyes fly open at once. “You didn’t wake me,” she says, because she knows Lavender is about to apologise. “I can’t sleep either.”

“Everyone else can.”

“Everyone is...taking sleeping potions.”

“Well, why don’t we?”

“We have each other.”

“So?”

“ _ So _ ?” Parv repeats, aghast. “We can sleep without magic. We brings each other to peace.”

“But you said you can’t sleep.”

Parv closes her eyes. “Well...we’ll sing to each other.”

“Parv...”

“I mean it,” she says. “I’ll start.”

Parv’s got a fair voice, and starts singing quietly, a Wizarding lullaby, she assumes. It’s in an Indian dialect, not any of the ones she hears Parv and her sister Padma speak, which she has learned to recognise.

Lavender is about to ask her what it is, but her eyes grow heavy and she can’t open her mouth.

* * *

The next night, Lavender sings to her.

* * *

And the next night, it is Parvati’s turn. And so it continues, the two of them taking turns lulling each other to sleep.

Their chaos turns into an odd sort of calm. Every few days, more students stumble into their refuge, and a few short hours before the Muggleborn Registration Officers arrive at Hogwarts, Neville organises a rescue mission for every Muggleborn in the school, which she and Parv participate in.

They need to work quietly and quickly. By the time the Carrows and Snape realise the Muggleborns are disappearing, they need to all be gone. There can’t be time for them to try and get information out of a poor, unsuspecting student.

The Room of Requirement isn’t bursting, of course. Comfortable beds and spacious showers multiply with their new roommates. And Lavender and Parvati stop singing each other to sleep that night, because they realise they have children who need it more than they do.

That’s the night she realises she’s not a child anymore.

It’s the night she realises that Parv isn’t either.

* * *

And then they hear tell of a dragon breaking out of Gringotts.

And then Hermione Granger, who found a word for what she is, and Ron Weasley, who broke her heart mere months ago, and Harry Potter, who represent so much, all walk in.

God, she missed them. She missed them all.

* * *

 

There are jets of light everywhere.

And yelling.

So much noise.

Lavender likes noise, but this is so angry, hateful, fearful, desperate. She hates this.

Her noise is hair-drying charms and thunder booming and exploding snaps setting off and sugar-mice squeaking and unicorns braying and magic ice crackling in her pumpkin juice and Parvati’s singing and Parvati’s laughing and Parvati’s shouts across the Great Hall and  _ Parvati, where is Parvati? _

And she turns around and her heart stops because there she is and she is standing directly across from a masked person’s wand and there is a jet of green coming closer and closer to her and it’s so fast and somehow in a fraction of a second Lavender sees everything and she doesn’t even  _ think  _ she just moves and jumps and 

waits

and 

it

misses.

It misses.

She’s alive.

And there is a beautiful sobbing in her ear, because Parvati is alive too.

For the second time in fifteen seconds, Lavender doesn’t think, she just kisses her.

And  _ now, _ she thinks, now she is alive. Now her world is in place. It’s all going to hell around her, yes, and she needs to move now now now, but she finally gets it. It finally clicks.

* * *

Forever later, a girl is bored. “...and also how you found out you were a witch,” she is saying.

Lavender looks at her and smiles. She cups her face.

“Put your quill, away, darling, and I’ll tell you.”

  
  



End file.
